


On The Edge With You

by ElizabethDionne



Series: Criminal Minds Fanfiction(working name;subject to change) [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:02:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25886263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethDionne/pseuds/ElizabethDionne
Summary: The BAU. A prestigious group within the FBI that profiles and ultimately lead to the capture of some of the most disgusting people in the country. Sam Travis, and ex-Seattle Detective turned FBI agent lands a spot within the group, whether through skill, luck, or a combination of the two with some strange coincidences gladly excepts a position with the team of profilers. But with secrets of her own, a past she wants to keep buried, cases that seem to test and push her limits, as well as some prying eyes- it's not a question of just what they'll find out, but when they'll find it out. After all, you can't be paired with some of the best minds on the planet and not expect to have your buried secrets dredged up.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Derek Morgan/Reader, Penelope Garcia & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: Criminal Minds Fanfiction(working name;subject to change) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878454
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Where do your roots start?

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer*  
> I will use German from time to time. I am by no means a native speaker and Google translate is my best friend. If you happen to be a native speaker and have a better way of phrasing it or a better word I can use then please leave it in the comments. It would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

“Guys, meet Sam Travis. She’s going to be joining us.” Hotch announced to the room.  
I stood behind him, pretty much hiding from everyone’s view and avoiding eye contact.  
“Well, where is she Hotch? I want to meet her!” One of them said and they all laughed. Hotch let out a small chuckle and moved away from me, giving everyone full view.  
“Well hello beautiful. My name's Derek Morgan, but you can call me whatever you’d like.” The man said as he walked over and held out his hand.  
“It’s nice to meet you as well handsome.” Faux confidence is my specialty.  
“Hello. My name is J.J. I help with the media involvement and sort through the cases. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard good things about you.” I smile at her.  
“It’s nice to finally be here. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve gone through to be able to get on the team.” I say, looking at Hotch and Gideon with an accusatory stare.  
“We just had to be sure you were a good fit on the team.” Gideon says.  
“Alright guys, we need to get ahead with the briefing. You can talk to Sam more on the plane.” Hotch sayed and J.J. started the briefing.  
“This is the Jones family. They had just returned to their home when they were ambushed by someone inside. All four were killed by a stab to the back of the neck, separating the spinal cord from the base of the brain stem. Officers wrote it off as another murder and were stumped for a month when one of the Detectives noticed that it matched a case from two years ago almost exactly. A family returning home late at night with the exact same cause of death. The Detective looked further back and found a pattern every two years. They called us because they believe they’re dealing with a serial killer and the entire town is getting unrestful.”  
“So the signature of the unsub is the style of killing. That’s a very hard way to kill someone. You have to really cram the knife in and you half to have a fairly good knowledge of where the vertebrae meet with the brain stem. This is someone who’s educated about human anatomy and probably has close combat training- most likely either a form of bladed martial arts or were a mercenary or assassin.” I say, writing down the info in my leather book. It was a parting gift from my old police partner when I joined the FBI and left the department as a Detective.  
“Good observation. But why all those families? Each one is a family of four- one male and one female child each. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” Gideon says, looking at me.  
“Well, maybe the Unsub lost his own family. It doesn’t appear as though he’s inserting himself into the family dynamic, rather taking them away. The coroner wrote that sons were always killed last. So we’re looking for a man who most likely feels as though he was abandoned or betrayed by his own family, so he seeks to make other boys feel that way then kills them.” I say, writing down that as well.  
“Well, I’d say this one is a go. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says, standing from the table and leaving to go to his office.  
“Hi. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid.” His hand shakes as he holds it out to me.  
“Hello. It’s good to finally meet you. I was a part time teacher's assistant at one of the colleges you gave presentations to. I was always such a fan of them that I looked forward to them every year.” I say, shaking his hand firmly and retracting it quickly.  
“Thank you. Public speaking wasn’t ever something that I was a fan of, so it’s nice to see that someone at least understands what I was saying there.”  
“Hey! Come on. We need to go. You two can talk later.” Morgan calls out from down the hall.  
“Yeah. We probably should go.” Reid says and I nod in agreeance.

* * *

“So Sam, what’d you do before joining the bureau?” Morgan asks.  
“I was a detective for Seattle police. I got tired of the typical and decided that my life needed some shaking up so I joined the FBI.” I answer.  
“Oh, so you’re going to be familiar with the area when we land.” Emily says.  
“Yeah. I should be able to help in getting answers from the locals as well. Looking over the areas where the killer struck previously shows that there’s no discrimination in social class. Some of those people who may have been witnesses don’t like to talk to law enforcement all that much. I’m comfortable with many of the lower class neighborhoods from my days as a beat cop.” I tell her.  
“That’s good. Why don’t you go with Morgan and talk to some of the witnesses from the past murders.” Hotch says and I nod, grinning at Morgan as he grins back.  
“Actually, I was hoping Sam could help me with a geographic profile and the victimology. Despite him not killing based on class, she does know the area and I still don’t think the choice in families is really a coincidence. She can help by providing information about recent rezoning efforts or neighborhood gentrification efforts. She could be an invaluable source of information.” Reid says, stammering a little at the beginning.  
“No. Sam and Morgan will go talk to potential witnesses. The lower class families will be less likely to talk to someone they don’t know. Max needs to be there to get them to talk.” Hotch says definitely.  
Reid kinda nods his head, looking upset at the recent development.  
“Hey Reid. I’ll give you my number just in case you have any questions about anything concerning the neighborhoods. Just shoot a text anytime you need something.” I say, writing it down on a piece of paper I tore out of my notebook and handing it to him.  
“Thanks. But be ready for a lot of questions.” He says and I nod with a small smile.  
“Alright. Gideon and I will check out the newest scene. Emily, Reid, and JJ will go to the police station and get started there.” Hotch says.  
The plane lands and almost immediately me and Morgan are off to some of the previous crime scenes.  
“You used to be a cop here?” Morgan asks from the passenger's seat as I carefully navigate the slick roads.  
“Yeah. I was one of the more respected ones in the department. I was almost sad to be leaving knowing that so many families trusted me but it had to be done.”  
“What do you mean it had to be done?” Morgan looks at me as I slow to a stop at the light.  
“Personal reasons. Things I don’t want to share. With anyone. Ever. So please forgive me for not talking about it.” I say in a serious tone.  
“Hey, yeah, no I get. I understand what it’s like to want to keep something a secret. But I want you to know that you can trust me. You can trust all of us now. Whatever happened is in the past, and we’re gonna be there for you as long as you’re there for us.” He says, patting my shoulder.  
I restrain myself from moving away and I stop outside the house of one of the previous victims.  
“No one’s moved in even today. I guess it’s not a buyers market.” I say deadpan.  
Morgan chuckles. “Hey, let’s go take a look inside. The Sheriff gave me a key to the house.” I nod.  
Stepping out of the car is like a blast from the past. Memories of working this case come flooding back and I prepare myself for the ugly sight that’s sure to be inside still. Walking up the path, everything looks almost exactly the same as it did that night. The realtor didn’t bother to change a thing. That’s obvious on the inside, with the pink patches of washed off blood still on the brown flooring and beige carpets.  
“Alright Sam, tell me what you can gather from this place.”  
“The killer is organized. He didn’t leave a mess and instead found a way of killing that was efficient yet clean. At the time, we couldn’t find any ties to anyone, nor to a witness or someone who could have done it. So he blends in. He’s not usually one to suspect but if seen in the right circumstances you’d wonder how you could have missed him. He’s probably controlling. Not just the usual amount seen in dominant killers but so much that he has a terrible time with relationships stemming from the childhood trauma he suffered. He doesn’t trust easy but others around him trusts him. A smooth talker, he can convince anyone to do what he says without resorting to violence. But he doesn’t hate having to get violent. In fact, he wants to sometimes. We should look up people who may have had a dropped case of assault or domestic violence.We followed that the first time but with a more recent killing, it could be helpful this time.” It’s a lot. But I find Morgan nods along and takes notes as I speak.  
“That’s good. But what makes you think he’s abusive necessarily?” He asks.  
“Well, the childhood trauma. He kills families of four, saving the male child for last. He does it so that the child will feel abandoned. He probably even gives the kid hope that he’ll make it out alive. His family might have given him up for adoption, or maybe he was in the foster system, or maybe they died. I mean, anger at the parents is understandable but they’re killed first. To save the male child for last means that he is doing this out of anger of the whole family. He probably sees the happy family somewhere, follows them, stalks them, and then when his anger is so uncontrollable, he breaks into their home and kills them all. Inflicting the same mental damage on the young boys that he himself has experienced. This is a personal killing motivated by an unstoppable rage. It just makes him that much more dangerous.” I say, swiping some dust off the mantle.  
“Alright. Let’s go talk to some of the neighbors. See if they can remember anything weird that night.” I nod, taking one last look at the room and shuddering. He won’t get away with this.

* * *

“Hello Mrs. Ashwaldt. My name is Dr. Sam Travis. This is Special Agent Morgan. We’re here to talk to you about a homicide that took place two years ago. We were hoping you could answer some of our questions or remember anything from that night.” I say, smiling gently at the lady that answered the door.  
“Of course. Come on in. But I’m going to have to ask you to be quiet. I just got my son down for a nap.” I nod, entering the home with Morgan following after me. “We can talk in the office just down here. It should be quiet enough.”  
Me and Morgan follow her down the hallway, looking at the huge amounts of pictures lining the walls. One of them strikes out at me, but I can’t seem to pinpoint why. It’s a normal looking photo, a happy looking family but there’s just something off. Everyone seems to be standing just a little too far apart. Their smiles are just a little too forced. Like they’re all props.  
“Mrs. Ashwaldt, we wanted to know if you could remember anything about the family that used to live across the street. Did you know them well?” Morgan asks, while I take a look around the room.  
“I didn’t know them really well, but I would occasionally go over with my husband to watch the game on Sundays. They were really nice people and I still can’t understand why someone would want to hurt them.”  
“Do you know if anyone had a bone to pick with them. Was there someone that always seemed just a little strange that hung around. Maybe someone who didn’t belong in the neighborhood?”  
“No. No one like that. It’s a relatively good neighborhood. Good school, good kids. Nice neighbors. Everyone is so kind.” She says, rubbing her left forearm.  
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” I say. She looks at me.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, the rubbing of the arm is usually a self comforting technique. Something someone does when they say something that makes them feel threatened or could present a danger. Is there someone here who fits the description I’m about to give you? He seems trustworthy on the surface. He’s always extremely kind and possibly even really good with kids. But when he’s with a family there always seems to be something off. Like he’s mad or upset. Maybe not at anything in particular, but just generally. He starts and stops new relationships often, with the women seemingly just disappearing overnight. You may have had an encounter with him staring at you just a little too long and you may not have known why and quite possibly didn’t want him staring at you. The women in the neighborhood may not say it out loud but after knowing him for so long they don’t want to be around him alone for maybe no reason at all other than just a feeling. Is there someone who matches that description? Please help us.”  
“Well, there used to be someone who matched a little of what you said. But he moved away shortly after that family was murdered. He wasn’t ever a huge hand in the community, and wasn’t ever really invited to community events because of that, but no one truly had any bad blood with him, and especially not the family across the street. They invited him to their kids birthday because he covered the doctor expenses when their little boy was attacked by a dog. They had gotten very close to him because of that. I don’t see any reason that he would hurt that poor family.” She explains.  
“Was it his dog that attacked the kid?”  
“No. It was just a stray. He wasn’t good with animals. Especially dogs. They gave him severe anxiety.” She explains.  
“Do you remember his name?” Morgan asks.  
She shakes her head. “No. Like I said, he never really helped out. He didn’t come to open community events that much. It wasn’t that no one wanted him there, he just seemed to be a little awkward around people. He seemed shy, except when talking to kids. But everyone had their own theories about that.” She waves her hand in dismissal at that statement.  
I look at Morgan with a questioning look on my face. He returns it.  
“And what did everyone suspect of him?” Morgan asks.  
She furrows her brow a little and looks at the floor before answering. “Well, I thought that it was because of some mental issues. He always took to kids easier. I don’t mean to imply that he was a pedophile, but just that he acted more like a kid a lot of the time. He played with them when at someone's house rather than hanging out and talking to the parents. He never truly seemed like an adult, but rather a little boy stuck in a man's body, y’know?” She says and I nod.  
“I understand. But other people in the neighborhood thought differently?” I ask and she nods.  
“Yeah. A lot of them wouldn’t let him around their kids because they said he gave off a pedophilic aura. That they were uncomfortable letting him around their kids. But if I’d had my son two years ago, I would have gladly let him be around him. He was especially good with babies. He could get them down to nap in a minute of just holding them. He was one of the sweetest men I knew as well.” She says. I smile at her.  
“Well, thank you for your time Mrs.Ashwaldt.” I say, extending my hand out for her to shake.  
“It’s no problem at all. I hope that I helped. Anyone sick enough to do that needs to be caught and kept away in a dark, dark hole away from people.” She shakes my hand firmly.  
As me and Morgan make our way back to the car, I think about the talk we just had with her.  
“Maybe we should talk to some of the other people here on the block. They might be able to provide us with a name, as well as some more insight into the man. As well as clear up all the inconsistencies with the view on the mystery man. It was almost like she couldn’t make up her mind about how the neighborhood felt about him.” I tell Morgan, resting against the front of the car.  
“That might be a good idea, but we also have a lot more crime scenes to visit. If we can find a connection between that man and the other families that were killed, then we can come back here and talk to some more people.” He says.  
I mull it over in my head. “Alright. For now do you want to head to some more crime scene locations or head to the station?”  
“Let’s go check out some more crime scenes. I think it would be beneficial to do that before the media reports that there’s a serial killer and people start to clam up and keep their mouths shut.” He says as he opens the passenger door and climbs in.  
I get in the driver's side and start the car.  
“Alright. Off we go!” I say with a smile, pulling away from the house.

* * *

After a long day of getting next to no information, me and Morgan finally arrive at the police station. Stepping out of the car, I’m greeted with the familiar sight of the grand steps leading into the building.  
“Home sweet home.” I murmur.  
“Hey kid! It’s nice to see you again. Come to take your desk back already?” Officer Wesley jokes.  
“No. I’m actually here to help solve a murder. Basically doing the same thing I was already doing, just with a higher paycheck.” I answer, allowing him to pull me into a hug.  
“Well, Max misses you. Every time someone opens the door he gets excited thinking that it’s you but constantly has his heart broken.” Wesley says.  
“Well, maybe if they would just retire him already then none of us would have to deal with the heartbreak.” I say with a frown. It’s practically impossible to adopt a dog from the police force, even if you’re the one that trained them and worked with them.  
“I’m sorry. Who’s Max?” Morgan butts in sounding jealous.  
“He was my partner. The finest German Shepherd I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. But it’s pretty much impossible to be able to adopt him, whether he’s retired or not. I was so sad having to leave him.” I say, watching as Morgan's face goes from jealousy to slight embarrassment.  
“Oh. Well, maybe you can use some of your new FBI powers to convince the bureau to let you adopt him.” Morgan suggests.  
“Ooo, yeah. That’s a good idea. You can even get your supervisor to petition for it.” Wesley agrees.  
“I’ll deal with that later. But for now, Morgan and I need to get to the rest of our team. It was nice seeing you again Wes.” I give him a last hug and head up the steps with Morgan.  
“You were part of the canine unit?” Morgan asks.  
“Yeah. I loved working with all the dogs. But none more so than Max. I truly wish that I could have adopted him when I left. But sadly the department doesn’t care about the mental wellbeing of the dogs and the potential abandonment issues that the constant switch in handlers can leave them with.” I explain.  
“Hmm. I’ll help you get Max. Don’t worry. I won’t leave or your boy hangin.” He says, giving me a side hug as we move through the department to the office that our teams set up shop in.  
“Thank you.”  
“No problem. But get ready for me visiting all the time between cases to play with him.” He says with a wide smile.  
“Of course. He would love that. Everytime I did a school presentation he would practically beg to be pet by the kids there. And it was always a favorite with the students. Even the High Schoolers.” I smile at the memories of my days in the Canine Unit, going to schools across the city and giving presentations about the police force and the many different jobs within it.  
“Morgan, Travis. What’d you find out?” Hotch asks as we enter the room.  
“Nothing much. And definitely not anyone related between neighborhoods. The further back we went, the less we got. The one from two years ago is the one we got the most on, but the only potential suspect moved away and the woman couldn’t remember a name. We can get Garcia to look up the previous owners of the house and then cross search for mental disabilities and convicted pedophiles.” I say.  
“Why pedophiles and mental disabilities?” Reid asks.  
“Well, the neighborhood had mixed feelings about the man that used to live there. He was good with kids, and one woman we talked to said that he seemed like a little boy in a man's body whereas others got the feeling he was a pedophile. Just to be safe, I’ll ask her to search for both.” Morgan says, pulling out his phone and leaving the room.  
“Good job. Both of you. There wasn’t much we could find from the most recent crime scene. We know he’s organized. He probably has a controlling personality and that’s why the kills are the way they are. They’re not extremely messy, but they are very effective. I estimate it’s going to be someone with a larger stature. Someone strong enough to overpower everyone and still kill with ease. We’re looking for someone who’s fit but not overly buff.” Hotch tells everyone, getting nods of approval from them.  
“Reid, what did you figure out about the geographical profile?” Gideon asks.  
“Well, it’s hard to pinpoint just one area, because the murders are so spread out that there’s not just one possible place he could live, but multiples. This man was smart when picking out victims.” Reid answers, staring at the map of the city.  
Little pins represent the where the victims were located and I realize why there can’t be a geographic profile.  
“He wasn’t killing because of a hard to control urge. He was killing because of the victims themselves. He had to of picked out the victims beforehand. He probably knew the families closely.” I say.  
“So it’s a personal motivation.” Reid says.  
I nod, writing it down in my notebook.  
“I think we’re ready to present the profile.” Gideon says as he stands from the table.  
“We’ll brief them tomorrow. For now, let’s head to the hotel. Get some rest. Nice work today everyone.” Hotch says, exiting the room.  
I look at the casefile some more. There were no observable scrutinies that the police found. Nothing that could even remotely link the murders together. Not even any possible unsubs. This truly is a cold case.  
“Hey Sam. We should head back to the hotel now. You can look over the files some more there. Now c’mon. You look exhausted.” Reid says.  
“Okay. Just hang on for a few minutes. There’s something I need to do first.” I say, standing from the table and leading the way out of the conference room.  
“What is it?” He asks curiously.  
“I need to see someone. A very special someone.” I say, heading to the front desk.  
“Oh. I think I’ll be out in the car then.” Reid murmurs, walking faster.  
“No. Stay. I want you to meet him.” I grab his arm before he can leave me behind.  
“I don’t really think that’s-”  
“Please. You’ll love him. I promise.” I interrupt him.  
“Okay, fine.” He huffs, crossing his arms.  
“Hello Sam. What can I do for you?” The lady asks.  
“I would like to see Max. Is that possible?”  
“Of course. He’s missed you quite a bit since you’ve left. He’s going to be so excited.” She says, offering me a key to the kennels.  
“Thank you so much. C’mon Reid. Let’s go.” I say happily, almost jumping up and down in joy.  
“Alright.” I take off, with Reid scrambling to catch up.  
I unlock the kennel door, opening it to hear the sound of barking.  
“Max works in the K-9 unit?” Reid asks and I laugh.  
“He is a K-9 dummy.”  
“Oh.”  
I approach his cage, and he instantly perks up from where he was laying, jumping up on the cage door.  
“Hey there Max. I’ve missed you.” I let him out and he jumps on me, almost taking me down to the ground.  
I grab one of his toys, playing tug of war with him while Reid just stands there watching.  
“Hey! You’re not supposed to be back here!” Someone shouts.  
I look up to see Officer Maxwell.  
“It’s me. Sam.” I say and he seems surprised.  
“Oh hey! I thought you left to join the FBI.” He says.  
I nod. “I did. But I’m back in town helping to solve a murder.” I say and he nods.  
“And you decided to hang out in the kennels?” He asks incredulously.  
“Hell yeah! There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” I answer.  
“Hmm. Well, if you want to take Max with you, then I can fill out the paperwork. He’s been mostly unresponsive to the other officers here in the unit and the department is considering putting him down. I can put in the request for you to adopt him, but it could take a little for it to be approved since you’re no longer with the bureau..” He says and I nearly scream with joy.  
“Of course! I’ve been trying to be able to adopt him since I left. But the department refused to let go of him because he was one of their best dogs.” I say as I stand up and from where I was sitting on the ground.  
“Well, they’re starting to see that this poor pup has had his fill of action and needs to go home with his partner.” Maxwell says.  
“That’s awesome. I’ll come with you to fill out the paperwork now. Reid, would you like to come with me or stay out here?” I ask, looking at him.  
“I’ll go with you.” He says, looking uncomfortable at all the barking.  
“That’s probably a good idea. If you’re not careful and they all get out, they might smother you with kisses.” I say with a giggle.  
“Not funny. They could very potentially attack me.” Reid says.

“Only if I say one specific word. And only one dog will.”  
“Whatever. I can go wait out in the car if you really want.” He says.  
“No. Stay.” I say. Max sits down on the ground, panting.  
“Not you Max. C’mon boy.” He runs up and follows me to Maxwell's office.  
It’s drastically less loud in there, and I find myself enjoying the time while I fill out the paperwork to adopt Max. Reid leans against the back wall, Max laying down across his feet. I smile at the sight, Reid seeming to be a little panicked at what’s happening with Max just napping.  
“And that’s all of it. Here’s his leash and a bag for all of his stuff from his kennel, as well recent medical records and the insurance card. Take care. And make sure to stop by every once in a while with him, just to check in and hang out.” Maxwell says, giving me a brief hug and handing me the folder with all his information.  
“Thank you so much for doing this.” I say and he smiles.  
“My pleasure. He seemed like he was getting depressed in there and I had to do something. My plan was actually to call you. But you somehow sensed it. I swear, you and that dog have a connection like no other. Come back anytime you like.” Maxwell says and I promise I will.  
“Max, hier.” I say and he gets up instantly.  
I put the leash on and from there it’s pretty much fuzzy. I gather his stuff from his kennel and the three of us all leave.  
“I hope they don’t mind Max being in the car.” I say as he climbs into the very back.  
“Lint rollers work with dog hair.” Reid says deadpan.  
“Was that a joke?” I ask in wonder.  
“Uh… yessss.” He sounds unsure as he says it.  
“So you do have a sense of humor.” I say.  
He frowns.  
The ride to the hotel is a blur. Nothing eventful except using my FBI powers to get it so that Max can be inside.  
“Goodnight Sam. Make sure you get some sleep tonight, we present the profile to the bureau tomorrow.” Reid says and I nod.  
“You get some as well. Goodnight.” I say, entering my room and letting Max off his leash.  
“So Max, what should we do first? Order food? That sounds good.” I say sitting down at the table in the room, kicking off my shoes and spreading out the copies of the case details, determined to crack this thing wide open.  
Max lays down and rests his head feet, sighing. I smile, feeling a million times better already despite being in Seattle.


	2. Chapter 2

_“What’s up buttercup?” My best friend of 12 years asks._

_“Nothing much. Just trying to finish up some paperwork before I leave for the night if it means I’ll have even thirty seconds free tomorrow.” I say, focused almost completely on the computer, occasionally looking back at the case file and the notes spread all over my desk._

_“Well, when you get done there’s someone here to see you. They said it’s urgent and they need to talk to you specifically.” Officer Browning said._

_“Alright. Give me five more minutes and I’ll be done. You can have them wait in the conference room until then.” I say, pausing my typing and looking at him._

_“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow kid.” He says, patting my shoulder and leaving._

_“I’m not a kid…” I mutter under my breath. Everyone gives me shit as the newest detective as well as being the youngest one. But it’s nothing ever serious. They don’t doubt my ability to do my job at least._

_I type the last few sentences of the report and I sigh in relief as I hit save. Thank god that’s over with._

_“Hello, Detective Travis? My name is Emillia, and I need your help.” A rather small looking girl says as she nervously looks around the room from next to my desk._

_“Okay. What can I do for you?” I ask with a small smile. The bruises on her stand out like a sore thumb._

_“He’s coming for me. I don’t know what to do. I’m tired of running but he’s not going to stop until he finds me and I really don’t want to go back with him.” She whispers quickly._

_I nod, a little dumbstruck and confused but I write down the statement nonetheless._

_“Who’s He?” I ask quietly, so as not to draw the attention of the other detectives in the room._

_“Gabriel.”_

* * *

I shoot up in the seat, the sound of Max barking, the persistent beep of the alarm on my phone and the panicked whimpers all make for a nice combination of noises in the morning.

“Good morning Reid,” I yawn.

“Can you tell him to calm down. Please?” His voice is strained and I look over to see that he’s currently huddled in a corner.

“Max, sitz!” I say loudly.

Max sits down, staring up at Reid as he straightens out his clothing.

“Thanks. So, I see you took my recommendation to read over the case file last night.” He says drily, gesturing to the file that’s currently spread all over my table.

“Yeah. It’s very, very interesting. And empty. For someone who committed so many murders, they have very little information here. It’s mostly just a focus on the victims and their family lives. There is a weird anomaly though. All families were reported to have had a major argument the night before. The topics seem to have varied a bit, but that struck me as odd. So, I did a little searching and found out that all the fathers of the families were in anger management groups at one point.” 

“Huh. That could be the connection we need. I’ll have Garcia look into it more, but for now you need to get changed out of your clothes from yesterday. Then we’ll go get breakfast and head to the station.” Reid says, gathering the file and arranging the papers all nice and neat.

“What about the others?” I ask, a little confused.

“They already left. I offered to come in here and wake you up when their knocking couldn’t wake you and your alarm was still going off.”

“Oh. Give me five minutes.”

“I’ll be down in the lobby.” He says, walking out of the room briskly.

I stand from the table and sigh, popping my back and stretching before going into the bathroom. I wipe off the little makeup I wore yesterday and go with a simple look with a little mascara and some shimmery grey eyeshadow. For clothes, it’s plain. A thin black long sleeve with a flannel jacket over the top of it, black jeans and some black hiking books.

I take a look at myself in the mirror and nod in approval. It’s decent. It’ll work. I walk into the main room and grab Max’s leash.

I opt out of the elevator, instead taking the time to exercise a little and go down the stairs. Max keeps up beside me easily, even trying to pull ahead.

Reid stands in the exact center of the lobby, looking around nervously. The gremlin in me decides to have a little fun, hiding around the corner until he turns around and I run up to him.

“I don’t scare easy.” He says turning around.

I put my hands on my hips and look at him. “Why don’t you take elevators anymore?” 

“That doesn’t matter.” He says, walking away and towards the front doors in the lobby.

“Exactly.” I say, following after him.

* * *

The coffee shop is small. I chose it for that very reason. It was one of my favorite haunts- that and the fact that they weren’t ever as busy as the other shops was a very good reason. It’s small, tucked away in a small alleyway with a gazebo area out front and hanging lights.

Inside is one of the coziest places with bean bag chairs and couches surrounding short tables with outlets built into them and jazz playing over the speaker. Black carpeting covers the floor black pillows sit on the couches. 

“Wow. This place is cool.” Reid says approvingly.

“I used to come here all the time back when I was on the force. In fact, it was the first place I’d found when I moved here to Seattle.” I say a little quietly, not really wanting to disturb the atmosphere in the place.

“Hey Sam! And a friend! What can I get for y’all?” Marissa asks from behind the counter.

“I’ll have a black coffee and two bacon breakfast burritos. What do you want Reid? Breakfast is on me today.” I say, looking at him.

“I’ll have the s-same thing as Sam.” He stutters. 

I giggle at him as I slide my card and accept the receipt.

“I’ll have those out pronto.” Marissa says, and I nod.

“Thanks.” I smile.

“So. Where’d you move from?” Reid asks.

“Texas. Just outside of Fort Worth. It got too hot down there, especially in the summer and every time I’d come up here to visit family I was in love with the scenery and the rain. Especially the rain. We never got much of that in Texas.” I explain.

He nods. “I get that. I grew up in Vegas, and rain was pretty much a rarity out there in the middle of a desert.” 

“Huh. Are you good at gambling?” 

“I prefer not to disclose information like that until after we play a game together.” He says with what could almost be a smirk.

“I’m gonna take it that you are good but you’re not going to admit it until I lose to you a few times.” 

“Here you two are. Have a nice day!” Marissa places the coffee and two bags down on the counter.

“Thank you. Have a nice day as well.” I say, picking up one of each from the counter.

Reid just waves and we leave the shop. I run to the drivers side of the car, climbing in quickly and slamming the door shut before a car can come down the road. It’s a chilly morning and I turn the heat on a little, just to warm us up a little before we freeze to death. Well- more specifically Reid seeing as he’s wearing a thin button up and a sweater vest. 

“I would suggest eating on the way quickly. The stations not too far from here and the traffic is usually pretty light.” I say, putting the car in drive and pulling away from the sidewalk carefully.

“You got it.” He answers back, chowing down on the burritos.

I unwrap mine and eat them while I drive. Dangerous- yes. Efficient- yes. I drive slow enough that by the time we get to the light before the police station we’re both done. Max looks at me sadly and I shake my head at him.

“No boy. You can’t have people food like us. I need to feed you special food. You’ll get some at the station.” I tell him, ignoring the puppy eyes he’s giving me.

The station is a flurry of activity when we get there, more so than usual and it gives me a bad feeling. Me and Reid walk in, Max pulling on his leash a little towards the kennel. 

“Give me a second. I just need to get Max fed. You go on ahead.” I say to Reid.

“Alright. I’ll see you when you’re done.” He says, walking off towards the elevators in the station.

I make my way to the kennel, one of the officers opening it for me and allowing me in.

“Hey. I heard you adopted Max. You already bringing him back?” The officer asks.

“No. I’m FBI now and since we’re staying in a hotel, I don’t actually have anything to feed him. I was wondering if you’d be able to spare some food until we finish up this case.” I say, using my best puppy dog eyes.

“Of course. I’ll get some. Anything for you.” He says with a smile.

“Thank you so much.” I say, leading Max over to where he put the food down.

“It’s no problem. So what’s it like with the FBI? Are they really as scary as the look?” He asks as we wait for Max to finish eating.

“God, they’re terrifying. I work in the BAU, which is full of profilers. You can’t hide anything from them, no matter how hard you try. They always find out. Which is probably why they’re so good at what they do.” I say, grimacing at the lack of privacy between the members.

“Man, I wouldn’t be able to do that. Some things have to be kept private, y’know.” He says and I nod in agreement.

“Well, thank you for feeding Max. It was a pleasure talking to you.” I say, shaking the officers hand and leading Max out of the kennel area.

“Sam. There you are. C’mon. You’re coming with me and Reid. There’s been another murder. We think it could be related.” Hotch says.

“Oh, okay. Well, then let’s go.” I say, following Reid and Hotch out to the cars.

“So what’s with the dog?” Hotch asks on the ride to the crime scene.

“His name is Max, and he was my partner when I was in the K-9 unit here. I got to adopt him because the department decided it was time for him to retire and since he wasn’t training well with any of the other officers, they were going to put him down. I wasn’t about to let that happen.” I explain, rubbing Max absentmindedly.

“Hmm. Well, he’s not going to get in the way of this investigation is he?”

“No sir. He’s trained to be around crime scenes. He’ll probably even be of help if we need him.” I say.

“Good. We might need him.” Hotch says.

I watch out the window as we drive through the neighborhoods, half listening to Reid’s rambling. We finally stop on the southside of town. The bad side. The side where the neighbors are unlikely to cooperate with us in the investigation because of their disdain for law enforcement.

“We believe it’s connected but the M.O.s changed. He abducted the kids this time rather than killing them. Everything else is the same. We may need Max to see if he can pick up a scent around the house because I think they may still be here.” Hotch explains as we get out of the car.

“I’ll get started on that right now.” I say, walking over to the lead investigator. “Sir, I was told that the kids were abducted this time. My supervisor believes that they may still be on the property or around it. I would like to take Max around to see if he can catch a scent.” 

“Of course. Here. It was the little girls jacket.” He holds it down in front of Max as I unleash him and he sniffs it, sniffing the ground and taking off into the trees.

I chase after him, gun drawn in case we don’t just find the kids in the woods. I lose sight of Max after a while and I stop to catch my breath. I have the general direction he ran, I’ll find him in a second. Suddenly there’s two gunshots and I feel the dread set in. I start running again and as I come over the ridge I see a sight I never wanted to see.

Max is laying down on the ground, whining and whimpering while a man stands over him. I hold my breath, creeping closer as quietly as I can. A twig snaps to the side of me and I look over with my gun held up as a kid looks back at me. I put a finger to my mouth and keep walking.

“Put your hands where I can see them!” I yell, gun raised towards the man.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” He says confidently. 

“You kidnapped two kids and killed a whole family- as well as at least 6 other families. Now put your hands behind your head!” I yell.

He complies and I come over with a pair of handcuffs, holstering my gun. He swings his arm out immediately after, catching me in the mouth with his fist before I can even really register that he moved. I drop the handcuffs, clutching my face and staggering away in a daze. The pain flares like a red hot heat in my face. I spit out a dribble of blood and look at the man. He just stands there calmly, hands at his side in a nonchalant manner.

I pull the gun out of its holster, and he moves seemingly even quicker than before, knocking it out of my hand and sweeping my legs out from under me. I yank the hunting knife I carry out of its holster thing strapped around my calf before the man gets on top of me, punching me in the face again and pulling the knife out of my hands while I lay there stunned. 

He wraps his hands around my neck tightly, squeezing hard enough that I almost immediately see stars and black spots in my vision. I can feel the panic set in after a few seconds and I start squirming underneath him, clawing at his hands with my own and trying to push him off. It doesn’t work and the black spots turn into huge black patches in my vision as my consciousness starts slipping away. 

Suddenly, there’s a loud crack like an explosion and he falls off me, clutching at his arm. I suck in as deep a breath as I possibly can with the damage that’s been done to my windpipe.

“Hey, hey. Calm down. You’re okay. Just take a deep breath and stay calm.” Spencer says, lowering down onto his knees next to me and taking both of my hands in his.

“I-” I start, choking after even the first sound that leaves my throat.

“Don’t try and speak. You might lose your voice if you do.” He says, squeezing my hands a little.

“We need medics at our location now. We’re approximately 1 mile east of the house in the woods. We’ve got someone with a sgw and an agent that was strangled.” I hear Hotch say and I remember the girl.

I let go of Spencer's hand and turn his head towards where I’d seen the girl, pointing towards the bushes there. 

“Is there something over there?” He asks.

I nod vigorously, pointing frantically at the bushes.

“Hey Hotch, I’m gonna go look at something real quick. Sam is pointing at the bushes like there’s something important over there.” He says, standing and drawing his gun.

I grip his pant leg, tugging it and wagging a finger at his withdrawn gun. He seems to get it, putting the gun up and walking over to the bushes. He walks over cautiously, and pushes apart the bushes.

“Hotch, it's the kids.” He calls out, lifting them out of the bushes and setting them down onto the ground beside him. 

Suddenly a group of police come over the ridge, along with two paramedics.

“Hey! We’re down here!” Spencer yells out.

I sit up off the ground, coughing as I do so and unable to catch my breath. 0

“Can you speak at all?” One of the paramedics asks, crouching down in front of me and setting down his bag.

I shake my head, petting Max absentmindedly to calm him down.

“Okay. Well, from what I can see, your throat is bruising deeply. I suspect trauma to your windpipe and possible damage to your trachea. Are you having extreme difficulty breathing?”

I nod my head, wincing at the movement.

“Alright. I’m going to put this nose piece and neck brace on you. The end is going to go up your nose a little. It’ll help you breathe better.” The medic says, slipping the tube over my ears and behind my head.

I stick the nubs into my nose and the first breath of air is like magic. 

“Can you stand up?” He asks and I nod, taking his hand and allowing him to pull me up off the ground.

“I’m good over here. I’ve got the bleeding stopped, and he’s stable. We can head back to the ambulance if you’re all good.” The medic tending to the perp says.

“I’m all good.” 

We leave the spot, walking back slowly to the house. Reid holds onto my arm firmly, making sure I don’t fall over and the medic carries the oxygen tank. Max walks ahead of us by a few steps, occasionally running off after the occasional squirrel and then coming back to his spot as leader of the group. We make it back to the house and see reporters everywhere. Reid grips my arm tighter, pulling me past them quickly and to the ambulances.

“Okay, Miss. Travis. I’m gonna need you to step up into the ambulance and lay down on the bed for me, okay.” The medic says and I nod, climbing in after Reid with his help and lying down on the bed.

“Will you be coming with us Dr. Reid?” The medic asks from outside.

I shake my head, shoving Max's leash into his hands and pointing outside.

“No. I’m going with you.” He protests.

I shake my head. It’s a lot harder to argue when you can’t actually speak.

“No. I’ll have Hotch take Max back to the station where they can keep him overnight. But I’m going with you.” He says and I huff, well, as close to it as I can get.

“Hotch!” Reid calls out and he comes over to the ambulance.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going with Sam to the hospital. Can you take Max back to the station? They won’t let him come with us.” Reid says and Hotch shakes his head.

“You can’t go with her. You’ll be better off with us solving the murder and helping with the profile.” Hotch says and I nod my head as much as possible with the neck brace on.

“I’m going with Sam. You’re not going to stop me.” Reid says in a tone that screams of finality.

“Okay, fine. Just take care of her.” Hotch says, taking the leash from Reid.

“I will.” The driver shuts the doors and runs to the front, starting the ambulance and driving off quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one is minorly late. I had the chapter all written out and when I went to post it earlier today, I decided that one of the plot points in it would be best fit for later in the story so I had to rewrite most of the entire chapter in one day, which is also why it's a bit shorter than I would have liked. Anyways, as always I hoped you enjoyed and don't forgot give it a kudos if you enjoyed this chapter and leave a comment about something you liked or maybe had some criticism about. Don't be afraid to point out a spelling mistake or a grammatical error because I'm a terrible editor when it comes to my own stuff. Have a nice night/day and make sure to subscribe to this story for an email next week when I post the third chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you are still reading this far, I first of all want to thank you for giving this a chance. Second, if you've read some of my other stuff, I know that I probably shouldn't be starting something new without finishing my other stuff. Trust me, I'll get it done as well as clean it all up. Third, I want to say that I am in no way a psychologist nor am I profiler myself. I aspire to be one someday but I feel like this needs to be said. I also want to say that I'll steer away from using any of the cases in the series. I might reference them from time to time, but I don't want it to feel like I'm just inserting my character into criminal minds. I almost want it to feel like it's own thing while also still being recognizable for more than just the character names. The cases will either be things I look up or come up with off the top of my head. I also need to apologize for if the characters seem to be too OC- especially compared to show. I haven't watched too much because I was rather young when it first started and I have only just recently started watching it all the way through on Netflix. So I apologize in advance. And last, I love getting comments. If there was something you found interesting or maybe something that you thought was a little weird- or even something you would add that you think would make it better- leave down in the comments! Seeing them always make my day and constructive criticism is so much more important to me than praise. Either are fine, but leave your thoughts down there and I'll read them and adjust the story as I go along. Feel free to also point out any grammar or spelling mistakes I made. After hours of writing and then editing, my brain goes numb and I miss them sometimes. I promise I won't ever get offended if you point them out- I'm human and I do make mistakes in my writing occasionally. Thanks for reading, I hope you stick around and check out some of my other stuff!


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